Blaine's Boy
by RiddikulusGrin
Summary: Companion piece to Don't You Want Me. Blaine has got himself a BF, and Kurt's not sure how he feels out it... Futurefic, Klaine


**Oops... I am so sorry, I thought this was already posted, but it turns out I uploaded it to document manager and forgotton about it... Well, here it is, horribly late - sorry DYWM readers, I hope you haven't all left. And by the way, I'm writing a manga at the moment, so my time is spit between the two projects. That means updates will be slow for the next three weeks until we reach our summer holiday here in the UK. (you have no idea how jealous I am of you American readers - our holiday lasts just 6 weeks.) **

**This is just a little ficlet, and it fits into my Don't You Want Me universe, and takes place between chapters 2 and 3 (but it's Kurt's point veiw) If you haven't read DYWM, or forgot everything in my absence (sorry, again) there's a short recap of stuff you need to know below. If you like this though, I encourage you to read my whole fic! Oh, and review.**

**RECAP: 3 years after high school (Kurt & Blaine broke up at some point during). Blaine's a recording artist, Kurt's his roommate, and recently got his first part in a Broadway show with Blaine's help. **

**DISCLAIMER: not mine. Well Tom is.**

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><p>"Kurt Hummel is a Broadway star!" I called to the apartment at large, flinging my arms in the air dramatically. It was my first day of working on Spring Awakening, and it had been a success. Megan, who played Wendla, was a wonderful performer, and she was a great fun to work with. It was more than a little weird to act so in love with a girl, but I guess I'd have to learn to make it in the big time. Blaine appeared in the sitting room.<p>

"How'd it go?" he asked enthusiastically. I beamed at him.

"Fabulously. How can I ever repay you?"

"Seeing you so happy is a good enough payment for me." His voice was soft.

I smiled. "Well, thanks. I'm going out with the cast tomorrow tonight. We can bring friends - feel like coming along?"

"Sorry, I can't." he said, looking genuinely disappointed. "I have a date."

"Oh... Ok. Have fun. I'm going to bed." I pushed past him and quickly entered my bedroom, ignoring the confused, slightly hurt look on Blaine's face. It wasn't like me not to press for more details about a date, after all. Actually, I thought as I pulled off my shirt, it was very much unlike me.

Why hadn't I? Blaine was my friend, after all, and if it had been Mercedes or Finn, or even Megan, I probably would have asked. All I knew for certain is I really, really didn't want to know any details. The thought of Blaine dating someone who wasn't me was weird.

It was only once I was under my covers and the light was off that the full oddity of thinking that emerged. I mean sure, Blaine and I dated in high school, but so had Mercedes and Puck, and she was so happy for him when he and Lauren got married. Blaine and I were friends. Just friends is all I've wanted to be with him since he saved me from that horror of a cocktail bar. Anything more than just friends gets too complicated to quickly, and we end up not even just friends anymore.

I didn't think that feeling was mutual, though. He had tried to kiss me, and I had rejected him. End of story, he moves on. Now it was happening though, I didn't like it. How selfish of me. By the time I fell asleep, I had decided one thing: I was not going to spoil this for Blaine because of whatever it was I was feeling.

I stuck to that resolution perfectly for almost three months. Spring Awakening was a huge success - in the modern world nothing was too dramatic. My reviews were wonderful, and Megan and I became very close. We were stars. Not huge ones, like Blaine was, turning up in tabloids and the like, but we were occasionally recognised. I adored it. Blaine was nothing but supportive of my success, telling me he knew I had it in me, that I really deserved this recognition. Of course, when I said Blaine was supportive, I was referring to the two of them. Blaine and his boyfriend. Blaine and Tom, the two that went everywhere together.

Tom was really nice. He worked in music, but he wasn't in the public eye, sticking to movie soundtracks and the likes. He was funny, cheerful and a little sarcastic, but it just added to his good-natured personality. He and Blaine were perfect for each other. They had very similar interests, both worked for the Trevor project in their free time (that was actually how they met), and Tom was teaching Blaine guitar. There wasn't much room in Blaine's little ball of happiness for Kurt the drama queen who he saved from minimum wage. I tolerated Tom, but I couldn't like him. He'd stolen my best friend.

"So pretty much, you're jealous of Tom." said Mercedes down the phone one evening. I was getting ready to go onstage, and I had felt like giving her a call. Spring Awakening and Blaine drama had left no time for girl talk. "Boy, you got it _baaaad_."

"I _don't _have a thing for Blaine!" I whispered harshly.

"But you used to." she said.

"Yes, and you used to have a thing for me - you don't see me holding it against you!"

"Mmm... I think you do, actually."

"You killed my baby!" I said loudly. Megan, who was passing my dressing room's open door, looked startled. "My car. You killed my car." I clarified. She relaxed.

"I know, and you'll never let me forget that, will you?"

"No, Mercedes Jones, I will not." I said, mock-seriously.

"All I'm saying is, if you were really just good friends, you'd let him be happy."

Megan, who was still by the door, waved to get my attention. She tapped her wrist, where a watch would be. "Thanks, Merce. I have to go - I'm on."

When I headed out onto the stage, I didn't quite expect what I saw. Waving madly, identical cheesy grins on their faces, were Wes and David. I didn't see much of the Dalton crew anymore - they were always more Blaine's friends than mine. If they were there, it could only mean that Blaine was. When the focus was off me, I scanned the audience quickly. Sure enough, to the left of Wes and David was Blaine. I didn't realise he was next to Wes right away because he was leaning away from him, his head on Tom's shoulder. An unfamiliar emotion coursed through me. All of a sudden, I really wished that Blaine wasn't so happy in Tom's presence. I tried my best to ignore the distraction, but when I delivered my lines, my voice was shaking slightly. Nobody but Blaine noticed.

Once I was in the wings, Megan shot me a sympathetic glance. There was no need to tell her what was on my mind, she got it. In fact, she probably understood the feelings I was having better than I did.

That night, Blaine was very quiet and miserable-looking. He had barely spoken since I met up with him, Wes and David outside the theatre. Tom was nowhere to be seen. Blaine was reading "Quidditch Through The Ages", and I was checking my emails on my phone. I looked up when I heard a sniff, and saw Blaine wipe his eyes on his shirt sleeve.

"Are you crying?" I asked. Blaine said nothing, and made no indication he'd heard me. "What's wrong?" Blaine still said nothing, but shook his head as if he didn't want to talk about it. Kurt Hummel was not the type to just let something go, though. I started guessing. "Is it work?" I asked. "Are you stressed about the tour?" no response. "Friendship troubles? Wes and David?" nothing. "You're at a sad bit in your book?" I asked wildly. Blaine seemed shocked enough at my utter lack of Potter knowledge to say:

"It's Quidditch Through The Ages, Kurt. There are no sad bits."

"Well, surely it's sad when Harry loses a game?" I defended myself weakly.

"No- It's not the actual games it's-" Blaine stopped himself, and sighed. It appeared that whatever was on his mind was sad enough that it could stop him in the middle of a Potter rant. Scary.

"What's wrong?" I asked again. "Is it Tom?" Blaine nodded and let out a wail of despair, flinging himself into my arms. I hugged him tightly, then helped him sit up and offered him a tissue. (I was NOT getting snot on my new Marc Jacobs, no matter how sad Blaine was.)

"We broke up." he whispered. I looked at him blankly. That didn't add up with the perfect couple image they'd been giving off as recently as earlier this evening.

"Why?"

"He said..." Blaine hesitated. "He said he could tell that I loved-" he caught himself at the last moment. "That I loved somebody... Somebody different." Oh. My. God. It didn't matter that he hadn't said the name. It could only have been me. Blaine looked at me expectantly, waiting to see my reaction. What do you say in that situation. I loved Blaine. What kind of love, or how much I was yet to discover but, as Mercedes had said, based on my dislike of Tom, it wasn't all that platonic. But Blaine was my best friend. We'd been down that route before and it had ended in disaster - did I really want to risk my friendship with him for a feeling that may or not even last?

"How could he tell?" I asked breathlessly. (Dammit, lungs, you manage three months of Broadway and chose now to fail me?)

"Well, apparently," said Blaine, locking his eyes on mine. "It was the look on my face as I watched them on stage." I nodded for him to continue, having lost trust in my voice. "He said that he wasn't going to be the consolation prize, because clearly it you I loved."

That was too much for me. Pretending I hadn't noticed the use of the second person, I said quickly: "That's a real shame, Blaine." I went to bed shortly after.

That night marked the first time since high school I cried over Blaine Anderson.


End file.
